"Well, Dick," remarked Mr. Hamilton, with a little catch in his voice, for he hated to part with his son, though he knew the experience might be good for him. "I guess it's time to say good-bye." "I suppose so," replied Dick, trying to keep back the tears, which, in spite of all he could do, would come to his eyes. "Yes, we must be going," agreed Mr. Larabee. "I'll write to you, Mortimer, and let you know how Dick gets along. I have no doubt but I'll make a fine man of him. Too much wealth is bad for a young man. Come along, Nephew Richard." Dick started to leave the room. At that instant the doorbell rang and Gibbs, answering it, came into the library and announced: "Mr. Henry Darby and his son, to see Mr. Dick." "I guess they have come to say good-bye," said the millionaire's son. "Show them in, Gibbs." "Hank" Darby did not need any "showing." He was in the library as Gibbs turned to go back to the door. "Excuse this intrusion," he began, "but I am in a hurry. I have a very important scheme on and I must attend to it at once. But my son insisted that we come and tell Mr. Dick what has happened, he being a partner in our enterprise--The International and Consolidated Old Metal Corporation." "Yes, Dick!" cried Henry, unable to wait for his father to tell the news in his slow, pompous way. "Things are in fine shape. In fact the old metal business can now pay a dividend." "A dividend?" "Yes, you remember me telling you about a lot of old scrap-iron and steel dad bought, thinking it had platinum in it?" "Yes, and it didn't have any in." "Merely an error in judgment," murmured Mr. Darby. "Any business man, with large schemes on hand, is liable to make them." "Well, while the metal didn't have any platinum in it, it had a peculiar quality of steel. It is very valuable, and I--that is we"--turning toward his father--"have just sold it to a large firm that wants it to make some very fine springs with." "Yes, the deal is just completed," broke in Mr. Darby. "My judgment in that old metal is confirmed. I have accepted an offer of two thousand dollars for it. Under the terms of the incorporation papers one-half of that goes to Dick. I now take pleasure in handing you my check for that amount, as president of The International and Consolidated Old Metal Corporation," and with a grand air "Hank" handed Dick a slip of paper. "Is this mine?" asked the millionaire's son, in some bewilderment. "It is," replied Mr. Darby. "It is part of the return from your investment of two hundred and fifty dollars which you put into the firm of which I am president, you treasurer, and my son secretary and general manager." "That is, I collect the old iron and sell it," explained Henry, seeing that Mr. Larabee looked puzzled. "Dick was kind enough to invest some money with our company last year, and I am glad I can make a return for him--or, rather, dad can, for he bought the metal that turned out so valuable."